


The Violins Will Talk

by RayByAnotherName



Category: Flashpoint (TV)
Genre: College, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-23 20:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20217361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayByAnotherName/pseuds/RayByAnotherName
Summary: Dean and Clark are not dating. This is how that changes.





	The Violins Will Talk

Clark was packing up his cello, one earbud in and one out when the 2nd chair violin tapped him on the shoulder. She was grinning, "Your boyfriend's here." Clark immediately rolled his eyes and zipped up his case. 

Outside was Dean Parker, leaning against his car, head falling back against the roof to expose his long neck to the chilly air. Clark whistled, "You know, people are starting to talk." 

Dean's head popped up, "You're cheaper than the bus." Just as he had the last three nights, Dean looked vaguely like a drowned dog with his hair slick from sweat and dark circles under his eyes. 

"Well! Don't I feel loved," Clark quipped as he loaded his cello into the back. Dean slunk into his seat as soon as the door was unlocked. "Academy's prep course ran late again?" Clark asked as he got in himself. 

"The obstacle course did." Dean groaned at the mention of his last, and Clark would bet least favorite, class this semester.

Clark's lips spread wide in a grin, "I told-"

Dean's hand shot out to cover his mouth, "If you finish that sentence, you can forget dinner." Lurched over the center console like he was, Dean was officially half in Clark's lap. Clark raised a brow. The hand dropped. Dean cleared his throat, "Practice go okay?

"The violins are gossiping about me apparently," Clark started the car as Dean settled back in his seat. He shoved lightly on Dean's shoulder, "No thanks to you."

A light blush rose on Dean's cheek. He ran a hand through his hair, tussling the dark locks so that chunks of it now stuck out in odd directions. Clark swallowed.

They stopped at a drive-thru burger joint just off campus where Dean forked over a ten per their usual arrangement. They both ignore how the other's fingers lingered, also part of their usual arrangement. 

"Pretty sure it's a good thing," Clark tossed his head back as they waited for their food. 

"The violins gossiping?" Dean arched a brow. Clark nodded. "Why?" 

Clark angled himself towards Dean as he gestured with one hand, "If they're talking about me, that means they're aware I exist. And if the violins took a second away from being violins to notice me, that means~" He paused, hand rolling as he waited for Dean to fill in the blanks.

"You're…good?" Dean guessed, drawing his words out slowly. 

"Exactly!" Clark snapped his fingers and turned back to the drive thru window just as it opened. Clark dropped the bag of food in Dean's lap. Dean immediately dug into his burger, paper ripping and teeth snapping. "It's a burger, dude, breathe."

Dean didn't pause in his scarfing to respond. Clark took that as predictive of his own burger's fate so he pulled into a parking spot. He stole his burger out of the bag just as Dean started in on his second. 

The only sound that filled the car was Dean's near explicit moans as he took each bite. Clark shifted in his seated. He took a few bites as he watched Dean's face contort - eyes closed, throat bobbing. 

"So what are the violins saying about you then?" Dean asked as he came up for air. Eyes moving to focus on Clark as he started in on his fries. 

Clark grinned, "Remember when I said people were starting to talk?" Dean swallowed hard as a blush rose on his cheeks. He ran a hand through his hair. Clark's eyes landed on Dean's mouth as the brunet licked at the excess salt on his lips. 

Dean cleared his throat, leaned back in his seat. "At least they think you have good taste." Clark rolled his eyes. Dean chuckled under his breath. Clark finished his burger just as Dean was finishing his fries. 

"I could do worse I guess." Clark handed Dean his fries. Dean took them, fingers sliding against his, lingering for a moment. Their eyes met. Clark swallowed, bit his lip. 

He wasn't expecting the lunge. Or Dean's hands sliding over his shoulders. They were calloused, rough as they moved over Clark's neck. Exactly the opposite of the lips moving over his mouth, the tongue dragging along his bottom lip. 

Clark groaned. His hand moved to Dean's hair, grip tight as Dean pressed closer. Clark moved his other hand to Dean's waist. His fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt to glide across the the smooth skin underneath. 

Dean's hand squeezed at his shoulder as he gasped against his lips. They parted. Lips ghosting against each other as their eyes opened. Clark swallowed another groan as Dean's hand slid down his chest. 

"You still think you could do better, Lane?" Dean whispered against his lips. Clark lurched forward to capture his lips again. Dean combed his fingers through Clark's curls and then pushed him away.

Clark watched Dean settled back in his seat, chest rising and falling, lips twirked up. "Don't look so smug, Parker." Dean's eyebrow raised. "Shut up." 

"I didn't say anything." Dean clicked his seatbelt back on and grabbed the fries he'd abandoned. Clark took a breath, then threw his car in gear. 

It wasn't a long drive back to their apartment. It was late, the streets were mostly dead. Clark took the opportunity to sneak glances at Dean - watching his throat bob as he ate his fries. It was a very distracting neck, in Clark's defense, aesthetically pleasing, long, all that. 

"You should really pay more attention to the road, Clark," Dean eyed him, cheeks reddening with every word, "Wouldn't want to crash." Dean's eyes flickered down, over Clark's chest, lower. "I kinda like you in one piece." 

"You're such an ass," Clark chuckled. His knuckles whitened around the steering wheel when Dean moved his hand over to his thigh. The warmth from Dean's hand radiated through Clark's jeans. Clark could feel the goosebumps as Dean's hand slid higher. 

The car came to a stop with a jolt when Clark pulled into his spot at off-campus housing. Neither boy moved for a moment. The hand retracted across the divide and Clark pulled the keys from the ignition.

"Move it, Parker," Clark nearly choked on his tongue as he got out of the car. "Some of us need our beauty sleep." He shoved lightly on Dean's shoulder as the brunet passed him to walk towards the stairs. His fingers lingered, grazing slowly down Dean's arm. 

A smile flickered on Dean's lips before he scoffed, "No body can sleep that long, Lane." He unlocked their apartment as Clark grabbed his cello. His hands shook as he moved through the locks. 

Clark breathed onto his neck when he came up, "You could do worse." Dean nearly fell through the doorway when he finally got the door open. 

They stood there, in the tiny entry of their apartment, looking at each other. Clark closed the door behind him. He brushed past Dean to set his cello down. 

"So…" Dean raised a brow, "Are we…gonna do this?" He motioned his hand between them. 

Clark's lips quirked up, "You did buy me dinner."

"That works for me," Dean shrugged and then he shoved Clark against a wall.

**Author's Note:**

> We're not talking about how long this sat in my WIPs folder, kay?


End file.
